


You and me?  Playing sports?

by Ink_stained_quills



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Genderbending, Oblivious! Amity, Rule 63, Volleyball AU, it's a girl's team, only for certain characters though, this is kinda kagehina-ish ngl, title from the bit where Amity gay panics into next week (episode 17 heart eyes)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26822905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_stained_quills/pseuds/Ink_stained_quills
Summary: " “Edalyn,” Coach Bump announces dryly.  “Might I ask about the purpose of this lovely visit?”“Well, I just thought I’d pay a visit to my alma mater, or course!”  Coach Edalyn smirks.  “What, I gotta have ulterior motives to visit?”Coach Bump stares at her, unmoved.  “Yes.”The older woman clasps a hand to her heart, feigning distress.  “I’m hurt!  Emotionally destroyed!  And as recompense -” Here she pushes the girl out from behind her - “I’d like you to consider taking my disciple onto your team.” "AKA the volleyball au nobody needed but me.
Relationships: Amity Blight & Willow Park, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Luz Noceda & Gus Porter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 135





	You and me?  Playing sports?

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. I have so many au ideas for this fandom, you are going to wish I never crawled out of the dark hole I used to live in. This is... five and a half thousand words of me projecting onto Amity a lil bit? Also Luz speaks almost no Spanish in here because I don't know much and I didn't want to disgrace myself
> 
> Hands cold,,, head empty,,, there's only Lumity,,,

Amity’s senior year goes a little like this:

“Eda!” the girl complains, shoving Coach Edalyn’s hands off her hair like she doesn’t know who the older woman is in this world.

“C’mon, kid.” Coach Edalyn replies, waving off the disrespect. “You wanna get on this team, right?”

“More than anything,” she says determinedly. Amity can see the shine in her eyes, one she’s thought she’d kill for in a player many a time.

“Edalyn,” Coach Bump announces dryly. “Might I ask about the purpose of this lovely visit?”

“Well, I just thought I’d pay a visit to my alma mater, or course!” Coach Edalyn smirks. “What, I gotta have ulterior motives to visit?”

Coach Bump stares at her, unmoved. “Yes.”

The older woman clasps a hand to her heart, feigning distress. “I’m hurt! Emotionally destroyed! And as recompense -” Here she pushes the girl out from behind her - “I’d like you to consider taking my disciple onto your team.”

“We take volleyball very seriously here,” Bump reminds her with narrowed eyes. “Is this disciple of yours any good?”

“Any good?” Coach Edalyn snorts. “Have you forgotten I’m the best coach on this side of America?”

“Disgraced coach, as I remember,” Coach Bump scans the new girl as if she’s trying to dissect her through eye contact alone. 

She waves it off. “You say potatoe, I say potato.”

“I’m not perfect yet!” The girl announces, raising a fist in the air. “But I’ll work hard!”

Coach Bump considers her, then turns and looks at Amity. “Aren’t you supposed to be leading practice, Captain Blight?”

“Yes, Coach!” Amity declares, turning quickly to her team. Willow raises a single eyebrow at her from her stretching position.

Drills have never lasted so long, she thinks distantly over the sounds of her girls doing flying falls. That new girl is probably (hopefully) doing terribly with her tryout, and Coach will send her packing, and Amity will never have to see her again, so she doesn’t need to think about the light in her eyes.

It’s best to ignore her, Amity decides with a satisfied nod, and readies herself to set an excellent receive from their libero. 

“Nice, August!” Skara calls, moving into spiking position. Amity bends her knees slightly, tracks the ball with her eyes, plots its course -

And gets hit in the back of the head.

She goes down hard, court floor scraping skin uncovered by their tiny uniforms, and smacks her nose painfully. Silence reigns in the gym for a long moment.

“Who. Did. That.” Amity seethes, pushing herself up from the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Boscha posting something - double laps for her, later.

The new girl lets out a strangled scream and runs over to her, fluttering her hands over the skid marks. “Oh, dios mio, I’m so sorry!”

“Not nearly sorry enough,” Amity growls at her. “Where on earth were you even aiming for, the sun?”

“I suck at serving,” she admits pitifully, eyes large and sorrowful. “I’ll -”

“Work hard.” Amity turns her head away. “I heard.”

“Noceda!” Coach Bump barks at last, stomping over. “That was the worst serve I’ve ever seen.”

In the background, Coach Edalyn facepalms.

“But,” Bump continues, “your other talents are… passable. I’ve trained worse.”

Coach Edalyn perks up and gives her disciple a thumbs up. Coach Bump very determinedly does not look behind her. “You’re in, on a trial basis.”

“I - thanks - I won’t let you down!” Noceda yelps, standing bolt upright as if she thinks she’s in the army. It’s pretentious.

“Blight!” Bump barks, staring at her. “For your own sake, teach Noceda how to serve.”

“With all due respect, Coach,” Amity protests, “I don’t think -”

“Sorry, Captain,” Coach Bump growls. “I didn’t realize that sounded like a request.”

Amity knows a threat when she hears one, gritting back her protests. “No, Coach. I’ll get right on that, Coach.”

Behind her, Matthie titters. August glares at her. “Got something to say, Matt?”

“Like you’re not just as happy to see her taken down a peg, Gus?” Matthie hisses back, making no effort to lower her volume. Amity’s shoulders stiffen.

“Get Noceda an outfit,” Coach Bump orders, and she moves robotically to obey, tugging the other girl along behind her.

“You look like you’re about my size,” Amity mutters, eyeing their spare uniforms. “Here.”

“That girl seemed like a jerk,” Noceda announces suddenly. “Doesn’t she know you’re teammates?”

Amity sighs. “I think Matthie knows that just fine.”

“Then she shouldn’t be such a - meanie head!” Noceda concludes, and Amity lets herself smile, just a bit.

“You don’t know me, or my team,” she tells her sternly, handing over the uniform. “I can be a handful if you don’t really want to play.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Noceda says, quick and fierce, like she can’t get the words out fast enough. She darts off to change before Amity can reply - maybe it’s a good thing, seeing as just that sentence set off sparks down Amity’s skin. 

Noceda’s eyes are bright and hungry and innocent and everything that should be in a volleyball player’s soul.

Amity’s eyes look like that, sometimes.

When the newly uniform-clad Noceda emerges from the stall, Amity walks over and inspects its fit. Noceda edges away. “Uh… what are you doing?”

“Checking the uniform fit,” Amity says absently. “I think this one’ll be fine. If the shorts are too big, tell me and I’ll get you another pair after practice. You warmed up, Noceda?”

“It’s Luz,” Noceda - Luz - tells her, hands smoothing down her shorts. “And I’m warmed up plenty.”

“Excellent,” Amity grins. “I’ll be testing you, Luz. You’d better be on your A game.”

“I’m always on my A game!” Luz boasts (probably not totally unfounded, even if Amity did get hit by her serve - she made it onto the team, at least) as they stride back into the gym. “I’ll score so many points, you won’t know what hit you!”

Amity’s heart skips a beat. “You’re a spiker?”

“Wouldn’t be anything else for the world,” she confides.

A spiker. A spiker, with that look in her eyes - god, Amity wants to set to her. She wants to toss the ball to Luz and see if she can land it on the other side, to see what she’ll look like when playing, if she’ll maintain that attitude after months of playing under Amity’s reign.

The thing about Amity is - well, she can be a bit of a control freak. It happens with schoolwork, with friendships, and especially with volleyball. She supposes it only makes sense that she’d gravitate towards the setter position (‘the control tower’ makes her feel like she can take on the world).

“Well, let’s run spiking drills then!” she yells to her team.

Luz’s eyes light up, and Amity reminds herself that she’s doing this to test her, that she’s still the girl who hit her in the back of the head, but she tosses the ball to her all the same.

And Luz flies.

“What the hell?” Matthie exhales, standing stock still where she was poised to receive the ball.

The ball that is now bouncing harmlessly on the other side of the court after slamming down definitively.

“What the hell, indeed,” Amity murmurs, eyeing Luz, who looks unsurprised and totally happy. “Let’s keep it moving!”

Luz continues to score until they introduce blockers to the other side, at which point it becomes apparent that her spikes are. Really weak. Weak to the point that their middle blockers grin and elbow each other whenever she steps up to spike.

“Let’s move onto receives!” announces Amity, and Boscha high fives her when she passes by.

Luz readies herself, crouching low, and tracks the ball with her eyes. Amity serves the ball to her, as a test. The other girl shifts to receive it, bounces forward a little, and - 

Takes a ball to the face.

“Was that revenge?” August howls, lurching forward to help Luz off the ground.

Skara and Boscha titter, and Skara dusts some dirt that isn’t there off her shoulder. “Mm… the captain’s feared serve. Better watch your back - she can play harder than that.”

“I didn’t -” Amity huffs and crosses the court. She scowls at the ball, then at Luz. “That was an easy serve, Noceda. You’re going to have to work on your receives. And don’t jump forward like that, it lowered your reaction time.”

Luz just tips her chin up and rubs her nose. “Got it.”

“I can help you with that,” Amity hears August tell her as she walks away. “I’m the libero, so you won’t get a better teacher!”

“Thanks!” Luz chirps happily. “I flew down here from Europe, and volleyball isn’t taken seriously where I live.”

“Europe?” August gasps, leaning forward. “Ugh, I’m fascinated with other countries. Do you guys really grow scales on the nights of full moons?”

“Not unless we’re really lucky,” Luz tells her seriously, and Amity rolls her eyes so hard she’s briefly concerned she’ll sprain them.

“Noceda.” Amity says without turning around. “... sorry. And Porter, of course they don’t grow scales.”

“You don’t know that!” August whines.

“Back to practice!” Amity orders, and she thinks that’s the end of it.

(It’s never the end of it with Willow around.)

“So,” she drawls, once they’re cleaning up the gym. “What’s the deal with Noceda?”

Amity starts disassembling the net. “I knew there was a reason you stayed to help.”

“You never give the job to the underclassmen, like everyone else would, so I feel responsible.” Willow shrugs, moving to help. “What do you think?”

“You’re my vice. What do you think?” Amity delays, wondering if she can get away with pretending the net requires all her attention. Probably not - she and Willow both know they could do this in their sleep.

“I think she’s a good person, and she loves the sport,” Willow deliberates. “She’s fast, and she can track the ball, but she doesn’t know what to do with herself once she’s there.”

“She sucks,” Amity says flatly.

Willow winces, adjusts her glasses. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“Just because you’re too good to think it doesn’t mean I am.” Amity hikes the net over her shoulder, and they fold it into the equipment room. “This is a volleyball school, and we all know it. She shouldn’t be on the team if that’s all she can do!”

“Coach Edalyn -” Willow starts, but Amity cuts her off.

“Coach Edalyn was disgraced a long time ago when she refused to join a team,” Amity reminds her. “After her injury, she was perfectly fine!”

“But she missed her tryout with the Emperors. Her sister got in instead.” Willow says softly. “That had to have been a blow.”

“I hate people who squander talent,” Amity scowls, yanking a bit too hard on the net.

Willow rests her hand over Amity’s, stopping her. “I know Noceda’s a work in progress.”

Amity snorts. “Understatement.”

“But so was I, remember?”

She remembers all too well - the few years when she’d discovered her talent for the sport, but Willow hadn’t. When Willow had come into her own, and Coach Bump had let her onto the team without so much as a “sorry I forbade my players from associating with you”, Amity had been guilt ridden for months before they’d made up.

“People can develop, right?” Willow reminds her. “Even you, Amity.”

“... I’ll give her a chance if Bump does,” Amity grumbles, “but that’s all I can promise.”

“I think we’ll get along. Gus likes her.” Willow hums, turning back to the net, and Amity feels the same jolt of nerves at the thought that her best friend will like someone else better. It’s irrational, and unfair, and might affect her relationship with Luz, but whatever.

“We’ll see what Coach Bump says,” she repeats, and they clean up the gym and walk home.

.  
.  
.

“You’re on the bench.”

“Aww!” Luz complains, overdramatic as always. She looks like she might throw herself to the ground and pretend she’s dying at any moment, and August looks inclined to join her.

“Until you improve in - well, all areas, you’re a benchwarmer, Noceda,” Coach Bump orders. “You want to be a regular?”

“More than anything,” Luz claims fervently.

Bump leans in close, intimidating and poised. “Impress me.”

Sighing, Luz crosses to the bench and waves at the three girls who will surely become her best friends within minutes, if she can get past their defeatist attitudes. Amity can feel for them - being stuck on the bench for so many years must not be much fun.

She looks over throughout practice, monitoring. Viney appears to be coaching Luz through putting more power into her spikes (though Viney’s methods are… unorthodox), while Jenna demonstrates blocking and Bekka gives serving tips. August dances over at some point during practice to show the group how she does receives, and Willow - well, Willow, is helping with everything.

Amity turns back to her regulars.

When the benchwarmers get to play, August insists on being on their side.

“They don’t have a libero, guys!” she tells them, indignant. “It’s my solemn duty to help!”

“If you leave, we don’t have a libero either,” Skara reminds her.

“You guys are all great players,” Willow coaxes as she waves August over to the opposing side. “Besides, I can play anything.”

It’s true, Willow can play anything. Though she’s not as good at any specialized position, those years of working herself onto the team reshaped her into having a very diverse set of tricks. As a substitute libero, she’s not bad.

“Unless you think we’ll absolutely lose without her…” Amity trails off, shrugging. “I mean, if you all think that, I guess I could call August back.”

“No!” Boscha snaps. 

Skara, too, changes her tune quickly, and other others follow their example. “We trust Willow, of course.”

Willow smiles, shy and sweet, and Amity grins in a way that’s almost wolfish. “Excellent. Shall we start then?”

Amity starts the game by serving to one of their spikers, who slams it to the other side of the court. August dives for it a moment too late, expecting Jenna to get it.

“If it’s in your section of the court, go for it!” August tells her encouragingly.

Jenna pulls a face. “They’re going to win anyway, right? Coach Bump isn’t even focusing on the match.”

Bump looks up from checking her email and flips the score. “I am affronted.”

“It’s not over till it’s over,” Luz says, voice throbbing with urgency. She wants to win, even if it’s just a practice match against her own teammates. Too bad for her: Amity wants to win just as much, and she’s got a better team.

She serves again, this time targeting the spot farthest away from August, and Luz shifts to receive it. Boscha snorts quietly, but Luz actually manages. They all stand in shock for just a moment before Bekka seizes control of the ball and sets it, Viney leaping up to score a point of her own.

“Huh,” one of the girls breathes, and the air in the gym changes almost visibly.

From then on, both teams are playing to win, volleying back and forth, and scoring back and forth. Amity’s team still wins - they are the regulars, after all - but it’s only by about four points, not bad considering they were anticipating a massacre.

“Again,” Boscha says at the end, Bekka repeating the sentiment. “Let’s do another match.”

Amity glances at Coach Bump, who has at some point focused on the match and not his phone. He gives her a nod and she straightens up. “Alright - match two!”

They play a few more matches, and everyone’s exhausted but happy by the end. Amity doesn’t know how they made it through five matches, let alone how the benchwarmers won two, but she doesn’t really care. Luz’s crazy speed was unleashed a few times during the matches, and Amity had felt her heart rate pick up every time she saw it.

“Noceda!” she calls across the court to where Luz is lying on the ground, panting. She’s not much better off, bent over with her hands on her knees.

“Captain?” Luz calls back, not rising from the ground as she accepts Willow’s offer of a water bottle.

Amity takes her own with a nod of thanks to Willow, silent question in her best friend’s eyes. “Clean the gym with me today.”

Willow bumps Amity with her shoulder. “Nice.” she mutters thankfully.

“I’m not just doing this to be nice,” Amity mutters back, choosing her words carefully. “You were right, she does have promise.”

“Four for me!” Willow yells, pointing at her. Amity groans, as does Boscha.

With great ceremony, Skara pulls a notebook out of the ball cart. “Willow has now pulled ahead, with a total of four to Boscha’s three.”

“That’s not fair!” Boscha demands, waving her water bottle in the air. “Willow is her best friend!”

“Which is why it only counts during practice,” Willow replies primly.

Luz eyes the team as if they have a contagious disease. Maybe they do: dumbassery disease. Maybe Amity’s got it too, considering the stakes.

“Captain Blight is a complicated creature,” August begins with a wave at Amity. “At the start of the year, we reset the counter of how many times she admits someone on the team is right during practice, for any reason.”

“Whoever wins gets a ‘get out of jail free’ card for suicides!” Skara rants, flailing the notebook. “And I’ve never won!”

“Then you should start being right more often,” Amity snarks, wiping her face with a towel. Skara boos her. “Alright, everyone hit the showers!”

The girls trickle out of the gym, Willow and August last of all with final smiles at their friends. Luz turns to the nets with an expression that doesn’t bode well for cleaning.

“... you’ve never done this before, have you.”

“I have!” Luz argues, looking guilty. “I just… haven’t really had access to proper nets before. Or a gym.”

“Where have you been practicing?” Amity demands. No gym? How did she even play?

She bites her lip. “I… haven’t? I mean, I didn’t really have friends to help, so I just kinda threw the ball to myself and ran for it?”

“That’s why you’re so fast,” Amity realizes, mouth falling open. “No coach?”

“Not until Eda found me,” Luz reminises, cheering up, and spreads her arms. “And flew me out here!” Then she slumps. “My mom thinks I’m at some fancy SAT prep school.”

“My parents don’t want me to play volleyball either,” Amity finds herself saying. As if outside her own body, she feels words spill from her lips like salty tears. “They think it’s not ladylike, and I should find better things to do with my time.”

“Old money?” Luz raises an eyebrow, irony painted over her face.

“Old money,” Amity agrees ruefully. “You?”

“Not enough of it,” she replies distractedly, eyes straying to the nets. “So how do we do this?”

“Actually…” Amity starts, scooping up a ball and spinning it idly on her finger, “I thought we’d practice a bit more.”

Luz’s eyes gleam, like she’d expected (hoped?) they might. “I mean, I’m not gonna say no.”

“I’ll just set to you, and you can work on using more force in your spikes.” Amity lays out a plan easily, mentally calculating how many spikes they can work in before they really do need to clean up. “I’ll keep increasing the speed, so don’t worry if you can’t hit them.”

“I’ll hit them all,” Luz promises, and Amity shivers.

They start off somewhat slow, Amity slowly increasing the speed until she’s at the point the regulars use. Once they surpass that marker, her eyebrows creep further and further up her head as Luz continues to land hits, spiking the ball as easily as she might wave a bug out of her face. It’s invigorating, and almost annoying, because how can she be so good at one thing but suck so badly at everything else? Finally, Amity lets the ball fall without tossing.

Luz freezes midair, adjusting to come down hard on her feet. Amity gapes at her. “Why didn’t you toss?”

“Why were you jumping before I tossed it?” Amity demands in response, staring at her.

“I was tracking the ball.” Luz frowns. “Next time I’ll watch your hands, too.”

“You’ll watch the ball and my hands at the same time.” Amity says incredulously. “Who are you?”

“Luz Noceda,” Luz smiles wryly. “I don’t think I ever got a first name, Captain?”

Amity swallows, a simple motion that somehow seems so much harder with Luz looking at her like that. “You get a first name when you become a regular, and not before.”

“No time at all,” Luz tells her, and turns those intense eyes back onto the net. “We still practicing?”

“... sure,” Amity mutters, dazed, and believes her.

.  
.  
.

Apparently, Luz’s court vision is incredible. She can watch the opposing side, the ball, and her teammates all at the same time, and her crazy speed is useful for hitting Amity’s tosses - the ones nobody else can reach in time. She improves by terrifying measures under the combined tutelage of Coach Bump and Coach Edalyn each new week.

When their first actual match is announced against Glandus High, it’s no surprise that Luz is part of the regular team (on a trial basis that Amity is confident will extend into a full position).

What is a surprise is that Luz stumbles into the locker room before practice one day, looking scared out of her skull, and bellows “Coach Lilith is going to be at the match tomorrow!”

Amity can’t breathe.

But her girls are looking at each other, cheering, and Willow turns to her looking like she’s fit to burst, so she exhales slowly and carefully. Inhales, lets her shoulders relax, and resists the urge to cry into Willow’s shoulder out of excitement and terror.

Luz bounds up to them, grabbing August’s hands and leaping into the air. August runs a hand through her short hair and claps her hands to her face, astounded. “How did you even find this out?”

“Eda told me!” Luz answers easily, like it’s not a huge deal that she lives with and trains under one of the Clawthorne sisters, even if it is the disgraced one. “She and Liliith have a… complicated relationship, so she wants me to ‘stick it to my stuffy sister that I have such a great disciple’.”

“Your Eda impression could use some work,” August tells her affectionately.

“I’ll work on it.”

Willow links her arm through Amity’s, as if she can transfer calm energy through skin contact. “Amity’s been trying to catch Lilith’s attention for years - they’ve interacted before, actually. I think she’s really considering grooming Amity for the Emperors when we graduate.”

“It’s not that big of a thing,” Amity lies through her teeth.

Luz’s eyes shine as she looks at Amity. “You know what this means!”

“What?” Amity asks self consciously, tugging at the bottom of her uniform shirt. Has she grown? It feels shorter than usual. Luz’s eyes follow the movement, then flick back up.

“Extra practice,” she hums, delighted. There are faint groans throughout the room, choruses of “As if I wasn’t far enough behind on homework already,” or “I have so many bruises my mom thinks I’m turning into a grape.”, but they all look grudgingly enthusiastic.

Amity claps her hands together, and the team’s attention locks onto her. “Alright, girls - let’s get to practice!”

“Yes, Captain,” Skara and Boscha echo sarcastically, laughing as they tow her out of the room, and the others follow suit.

.  
.  
.

“Excellent work in that match, Hexide.” Coach Lilith says smoothly, somehow standing much taller than her actual height. “Miss Blight, a word?”

Luz gives her a thumbs up as she walks after Lilith, Willow forming picture frames with her hands as if screenshotting them. 

“As you might have suspected, I’ve been deliberating on your volleyball career with the Emperors once you decide to take your place on the national circuit.” Coach Lilith begins. “And I’ve made my decision, provided you keep up this level of performance. Miss Blight, this is your informal invitation to our team.”

“Tha - thank you, Coach Lilith,” Amity stumbles over her words, starstruck. “I won’t let you down!”

“I should hope not,” Lilith says, cracking a rare smile before she leaves. Amity waits until she’s out of sight, then staggers back out to her team.

“Well?” Willow bursts out.

Inhaling deeply, Amity looks at her team. Coach Bump stares at her like she might burst into flame at any moment. “She offered me a place on the Emperors once I graduate.”

There’s screaming, girls rushing her, and Amity finds herself laughing and crying, arms thrown around Willow and Luz, and Coach Bump gives them a minute before she taps her wrist. “Sorry, ladies, but we still have a match to play.”

“A match to play with our scouted captain!” August yells, and Amity can almost ignore Matthie rolling her eyes.

She smirks. “Well, your scouted captain says we should get ready for our next match.” They disperse, stretching and hydrating, and Amity gets a moment almost to herself.

“An official team, huh?” Luz says admiringly, tossing her a water bottle. “Skipping town once you finish high school?”

“I… don’t know,” Amity admits, staring into her bottle like it can tell her what to do. “I mean, my parents don’t want me to play, and I’d like to go to college, and -”

“Hey, I’m sure Lilith can wait!” Luz reassures her. 

Amity pushes a hand through her hair, sweat slicking it back, and sighs. “What if she can’t?”

“Just talk to her about it,” the spiker advises, eyes on her hair. “If she can’t… I don’t know. I’ll get Eda to antagonize her or something.”

“Thanks, Luz.” Amity whispers.

“No problem,” Luz replies, bumping their shoulders together. “Now come on, I’ll help you stretch.”

Luz’s hands are hotter than Willow’s, or Boscha’s, or Skara’s, Amity notes. They make her skin prickle wherever they land, and when a finger skims over the back of her neck, she holds her breath.

When they play their next match, she feels on top of the world.

Nationals proves to be harder than Interhigh, but they place pretty well, and it’s enough to keep Coach Lilith happy. Amity’s proud of her team - it’s the highest they’ve placed so far, and a huge improvement from junior year, where they were taken out in the first round of Nationals.

With the end of her high school volleyball career comes sadness, and picking a new captain (Viney cries when she’s appointed), and finals, but Amity feels this sense of… incompletion. Like maybe she’s not done with school. This might be the reason she finally sits down at her computer one night, staring at her drafted email.

Coach Lilith,

I’d like to say again how thankful I am for your offer. Regretfully, at the moment, I have to decline. Though I would love to play for the Emperors in four years if you’ll still have me (though I intend to give you no reason to say no), I would like to go through college first.

Thank you for your time,

Amity Blight

Before she can question herself, Amity sends the email.

Instantly, she jerks away from her computer and calls Willow, whining. “Talk to me or I’ll sit and refresh my inbox until she responds. Oh, god, maybe I’ll do that anyways? Just once or twice.”

“Amity, no.” Willow orders firmly. “There is no possible way that a woman as busy as Lilith Clawthorne can respond that quickly.”

“I know,” Amity groans, “But…”

“Talk to me about prom instead,” Willow suggests. “Are you gonna ask Luz?”

“Prom?” Amity echoes, confused. Then: “Luz? Prom? What?”

“... Amity, don’t tell me you haven’t even thought about it!” Willow shouts, sounding much like she wants to throttle her. “Or about your huge crush on Luz? Amity, you useless lesbian, I am finding you a dress and you are brainstorming ways to ask her ASAP.”

“Nobody says ASAP out loud,” Amity retorts, mind whirling, and scowls at her phone when her best friend hangs up.

I am your captain, she texts her.

Not anymore, Willow texts back, closely followed by several pictures of dresses.

Amity closes her phone.

The issue is, now that Willow’s said it out loud, Amity can’t. Stop. Thinking about it. Luz’s hands pressing on her back when they stretched, how her skirt had been perhaps a little short and Amity hadn’t given her a bigger one, the way she looked after a match when her eyes were shining and she hadn’t showered yet and -

“Miss Blight?” Her AP Lit teacher prods her. “Are you entirely present?”

“Sorry!” Amity yelps, sitting up straight. “Just… lost in the book?”

Her teacher eyes her skeptically, but doesn’t call her on it (thank goodness). Willow laughs silently at her from three desks over.

So now Amity has a dress, a ticket to Prom, and a few hours to ask Luz to a dance she’s never given much thought to before. No problem, she thinks when she walks up to Luz after class.

“Captain Blight!” Luz chirps when she notices her, August eyeing Amity and smirking. Amity wishes she could still order her to do laps.

“Luz,” Amity replies, stomach flipping. “I wanted to ask, um. I had a question? I mean, an invite to - yeah. This weather, right?”

August’s mouth drops open.

“I know, right?” Luz complains, waving her arms in the air. Her books fall to the ground. “It’s so dry here, all the time!”

Amity nods, picks up Luz’s books, gives them back, and power walks away.

“What was that.” asks Willow, who has been not so stealthily watching from the end of the hallway.

“What was that,” Amity repeats, horrified.

Willow pats her on the back sympathetically and steers her in the direction of the school doors. “Let’s just get to my place and get ready, okay? I know for a fact that August and Luz are going, so we’ll still see them there. That will seriously be your last chance, though!”

“Okay,” she agrees, still locked in a position of permanent cringe.

.  
.  
.

“Stop worrying,” Willow orders as they mill about the gym. “You look phenomenal.”

“I look like I’m going to lose my lunch at any moment,” Amity retorts. “I’m going to go get some air.”

Willow crosses to talk with August by the punch bowl as Amity leaves, brushing past fellow dance-goers to stand in the hallway.

“I don’t know if I accidentally drank some milk or if I’m just weirdly nervous, but I feel kinda sick.”

Amity looks up to see Luz standing in front of her in some kind of dress suit combination that shouldn’t work, but kinda still did? Or maybe that’s just her biased opinion. “Luz! You look… good. Weird, but good.”

“A compliment?” Luz smirks at her as they move closer. “You goin’ soft on me, Blight?”

“In your dreams,” Amity says, laughing. She swallows. “And - it’s Amity. Amity Blight.”

“Nice to meet you, Amity Blight,” Sticking out her hand to shake, Luz raises an eyebrow. “Congrats for making this the hardest I’ve ever worked to find out someone’s first name.”

“I’m just bringing out your full potential in all things.”

Luz huffs another laugh, something small and breathy that doesn’t really fit her. Over the blare of the party, August steps onto the stage with her microphone. “Guys, gals and non binary pals, I have the honor of announcing this year’s prom monarch!”

There’s cheering from the gym, and Luz smiles. “I love junk like this.”

“Luz,” Amity says over the noise, “Do you want to -”

“My own beloved captain, Amity Blight, could you please come up?”

“Amity!” Luz yelps, shaking her arm. “You’re prom queen! Oh my god, we have to go in right now.”

Resigning herself to being dateless for eternity, Amity lets herself be towed along behind Luz onto the stage, at which point the spiker shoves her forward. August waves a crown at her, beaming. “If I toss this to you, you have to promise not to set it!”

“Can’t do that,” Amity jokes back, and August crosses the stage to set it on her head.

“Our prom queen can now pick her favored peasant to join her court!” August announces, to the crowd’s delight. Under her breath, she whispers: “C’mon, Captain. Don’t start backing down now.”

Amity turns to Luz, just off stage, who looks slightly teary. ‘Go on,’ she mouths, swiping at her eyes. ‘Pick somebody, Blight.’

She crosses to her, grabs her by the hand, and pulls her on stage. August slaps the crown on Luz’s head with a flourish. “I told you,” Amity mumbles. “Amity.”

“Finally!” Willow yells from the audience, the other volleygirls cheering, and clapping spreads throughout the crowd.

“”How’s the weather”?” Luz mimics, laughing, and Amity flushes bright red.

“You responded!”

“Cause I like you, dummy.”

“You like me?” Amity repeats.

Luz covers her mouth, hunching over to clutch at her stomach, and gasps out “I’m holding your hand, on stage, after I confessed to you. Most girls would like a response, you know.”

“I like you too!” Amity cries, panicked that she’s messed it up, but Luz just straightens back up to a standing position, eyes fond.

“Good,” Luz tells her, “Because now I can do this.”

“Do wha -” she starts, but once Luz gently brushes her mouth over Amity’s, she finds she doesn’t need to ask anymore.

.  
.  
.

Amity,

While I am saddened to hear you won’t be joining us as soon as I thought, I think I can manage waiting a few years. Contact me again when you’re ready to hit the pro circuit - provided you continue to impress me.

\- Lilith Clawthorne

**Author's Note:**

> If you validate me with comments and kudos, I'll keep searching for internet connection to post these from the pit of despair where I live


End file.
